


This Day Aria

by MelodyoftheVoid



Series: Fading Reflections [8]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Baby, Competent Zim (Invader Zim), Dark Magic, Dib is So Done (Invader Zim), F/F, Fluff and Angst, Good Sibling Gaz (Invader Zim), Hurt/Comfort, Just to be safe, M/M, Mind Control, OH WE ARE DOING THIS, Ok tallest, Seizures, Swordfighting, Thank you all for coming on this journey with me, They aren't... the best. But they're trying, Weddings, he just wants out guys, it's a mental breakdown, no, zib honey, ~shitty kazoo~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26682847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyoftheVoid/pseuds/MelodyoftheVoid
Summary: Come ye close and hear the bells of a ruinous wedding day
Relationships: Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zib | Zim Number 1, Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), Gaz/Tak (Invader Zim), Tak & Zim (Invader Zim), Zib & Unimaginable Pain
Series: Fading Reflections [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817320
Comments: 306
Kudos: 274





	1. Take Me to War

**Author's Note:**

> Zim has a choice to make, and Zib's made his options rather clear

The process felt like awakening after a long nap. Zim’s consciousness floated, untethered to reality as the layers of fabric draped around him, lost in a haze. The cold weight of the metal bracelets suddenly clasped onto his wrists pulled him towards lucidity, something in his gut telling him this was all so very wrong.

A conflict between the warm pleasant fog and Zim’s mind waged, with the prince clawing his way back into some semblance of control. The foreign presence in his mind waning before disappearing completely, leaving Zim confused at the sudden jump into the present.

Where was he? What was he doing here? A swirl of panicked questions tumbled through Zim’s mind, coming into an all too sharp clarity as he looked up into the full-sized mirrors in front of him, at the chiffon and silk gown flowing in pastel pinks and whites, a train stretching back, inlaid with delicate swirls of ivy.

He knew exactly what was happening.

This was it.

  
This was his wedding day.

The various attendants didn’t seem to notice the blood drain from his face, his body start to tremble and shake.

“Oh, prince Zim you look stunning! Jessica, make sure the hairpiece is placed right, we can’t have any detail out of place for his big day.”

A blonde maid adjusted the feathered pins and began talking at Zim, “I’m so jealous of you, getting to have this ceremony, you must be so excited. And nervous I’m sure, today is a big day!”

His mouth felt full of cotton, yet Zim needed to speak, if only to be heard.

“That’s… one word for it.”

The attendant jumped, embarrassed and mortified.

“Oh goodness, was I talking out loud? I am so sorry I didn’t mean-“  
  
“It’s fine. I have a lot of feelings right now, it is. A lot to take in.”

“It must be, you were a bit out of it before.”

“It’s been a long, long few months.”

Before Zim could try to explain his situation in an attempt to stave off the inevitable, someone knocked at the door, the head seamstress went to the door, smiling in delight and confusion at the presence on the other side.

“Oh, your highness! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the cathedral?”

The dark twin swept into the room

“I am not needed there for a few hours yet. I wanted to thank you for your work, I’m sure you all have outdone yourselves. Now, if I may, I’m here to have a word with my groom”

One of the girls, Jessica if he remembered, piped up.

“My prince, it’s bad luck to see one’s spouse before the wedding!”

“I’ll admit I’m not much for superstition, black cats and broken mirrors? Just old wives’ tales. Besides it’s rather urgent.”

Zim couldn’t help the flinch at the broken mirror comment, his shoulders tensing up as the image flashed in his mind.

“Of course, we’ll leave you two be.”

The servants all shuffled out of the room, leaving only Zim and Zib.

“They really did do fine work, you know.”  
  
Zim refused to turn and meet Zib’s eye, “It’s a shame that this is the day they made it for. What do you want?”

Instead of another witty retort or taunt, Zib just sighed, exhaustion seeping into his voice, “I just want to talk.”

Zim’s fists clenched by his side, digging into the delicate layers of the dress.

“And how do I know you won’t control me again if I turn around? Forgive me for not trusting your motives.”

“To be frank, I’m not in a state to do that.”

Curious, Zim turned to look at Zib, the usually composed prince hadn’t been lying; he looked like a mess. Dark circles bruised the now even greener skin, the veins on his head inflamed painfully; it brought a bit of joy to see the toll the magic was taking on Zib. More than a little honestly.

Keeping his tone neutral, Zim let himself have some fun at his captor’s expense, “So it would seem. Tell me, are you going to pass out halfway through the ceremony?”

“I would hope not. I am aware that you are not exactly happy with this, and at this point, neither am I, but I have no other option here, and neither do you. And because I know that you have a… habit of starting things, I made sure that wouldn’t happen today.”

“How’d you manage that?” Zim sneered, “Did you make his curse worse? Come to gloat about getting rid of him for good?”

“Nothing like that, no. I just need today to go smoothly, and I can’t do that without your cooperation.”

“Cooperation huh? Like I cooperated when I came back here? Or how my brothers cooperated? Or how Gir cooperated with being shackled to his smaller form?”

Anger spread across Zib’s face, and for a moment Zim feared he pressed his luck too far yet again, cursing his inability to keep his mouth shut for more than a minute. Then Zib looked at something beside Zim, face paling before resolving back to a pained grimace.

“I do not want to marry a puppet. I’ve learned my lesson there. Making you mindlessly agree with every word I say is unsettling to say the least. I have a suit of armor enchanted, and at my command, it will break Dib’s mirror. Gir is in my study as well, not that I could harm him even if I wanted to. Seeing something like that would be upsetting for the mutt I imagine. But I don’t think things will come to that, will they?”

“I knew it, gods I hate you,” Zim sucked in a breath, “fine then. If that’s what your play is, I don’t really have a choice then do I?”

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Zim turned away, glaring at his reflection as if it would suddenly change, allowing him to wake up from this nightmare. But that didn’t happen. Zib merely nodded at him, reminded him of the time, and left without another word.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Zim began to pace back and forth, half-baked plans coming and going. What could he do? What was he even capable of doing that wouldn’t end in Dib dead, him making a scene for nothing, or some wretched combination of the two? He’d cry at the helplessness of it all if it wouldn’t cause his makeup to run.

What a joke.

Someone knocked at the door, snapping him back to reality. A second more impatient knock came, one he knew well. After one too many mornings sleeping in past breakfast, how could he not?

“Your highness, are you ready?”

Hope fluttered in Zim’s chest, he’d have to see for certain, to check if he could trust her, but if he could…

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Tak. As if I am anything less than ready at all times.”

The bodyguard burst into the room with wide eyes.

“Zim? You’re- you’re you? He’s not? He’s not in control?”

Shaking his head, he looked into her eyes. Violet, just as they’d always been. He rushed forward to greet her, beaming at her equal joy.  
  
“It’s just me,” Zim’s grin faltered, “it’s… it’s just me.”

“Good, that’s exactly what we need.”

Zim blinked.   
  
“We?”

Tak pulled out Dib’s dagger, its metal polished and amber stone gleaming in the midday sun.

“Gaz wanted you to have this. She figured you might need it soon.”

“She- she knows? She believes us? After all this time?”

“She does, and we’re getting Dib out today if all goes according to plan. Turns out that Zib left all his precious notes out where anyone could just… walk into his study and read them.”

“He seriously didn’t lock up his study? I would expect him to be more paranoid than anything at this point.”

“Honestly, Zib isn’t what anyone would call ‘in his right mind’ right now.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Exactly. Gaz is on her way right now to get Dib into a smaller mirror. After that? We corner the bastard at the wedding and make him pay.”

Zim clasped onto the familiar handle staring hard at the words he’d painstakingly engraved into the blade. “Forever bound”.

“And if Gaz can’t make it in time?”

“She’ll make it. I know she will.”

Zim smiled at Tak, more of a grimace than anything else.

“You can’t know that. If the last few months taught me anything, it’s that no plan survives contact with the enemy. No matter what happens though, he won’t get what he wants,” Zim clutched onto the dagger, “I’ll make sure of that.”

Tak placed a hand on Zim’s shoulder, her gaze steady with determination.

“Just give me a signal, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Distantly, Zim could hear the bells start to ring. He whispered a quiet prayer for Gaz, Gir, and Dib, folding the knife into the layers of the dress. 

Taking Tak’s arm, Zim stepped forward.

There was no turning back now.


	2. Hell to Your Doorstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisters have no fear of spells, now the glass is cast away.

Gaz was getting rather tired of having to sneak around her home. Sure, it’d only been truly necessary twice now, but the paranoia of mistrusting the halls that she usually strode through with pride, not knowing if her next step would lead to catastrophe, weighed on her like nothing she’d ever known.

When she’d decided to take the mantle of captain of the guard one day, the expectations meant nothing to her. She knew with full certainty that out of anyone in the kingdom, she was the most capable. Hours and hours of duels proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. No, Gaz could handle the security and training of those who would keep her family safe. With her at the helm, no harm could come to them. 

But the threat that tore her family apart came from within. Envy left unchecked that mutated her brother into a vengeful beast. And therein lay the problem. At this point, she had no idea where, or even if Zib would stop. Any lines she assumed he’d never cross, he did, frequently and without hesitation. 

Doubt followed every decision she made, the unfamiliar specter eating at her resolve, so previously unshakable. 

It sent waves of nausea through her every time Gaz thought back to how ‘sympathetic’ he’d been after Dib’s false funeral. He looked her in the eyes, listened to her grief, knowing full well that Dib was little more than a few yards away. Hell, Zib told Zim himself of Dib’s “death” that he no doubt orchestrated himself, watching the hope leave the Irken prince’s eyes, to say nothing of the mockery he’d made Zim into later. Reducing the headstrong man into a marionette to fawn and obey him without question. 

So now, with her brother’s “big day” hours away, it was her turn to cause a little havoc of her own. See how he liked his perfect little plan going up in smoke. ‘Betrayed’ by someone he’d trusted. 

Unfortunately, the thought of revenge was so enticing, it drowned out the sound of oncoming footsteps. 

“Gaz? What are you doing here? And in full armor no less?”

The youngest Membrane blinked, panic and adrenaline forced down to keep her face level. This was a possibility she’d prepared for, she just needed to stick to the plan. 

“I wanted to do one last patrol. With so many of our men stationed around the cathedral… I just have a bad feeling something could happen. Once I’m satisfied, I’ll come as fast as I can.”

Zib blinked, almost looking perplexed before realization dawned on him.

“Oh. I hadn’t even thought about that. That really was an oversight on my part.”

“That’s why I’m in charge of the guards and you aren’t. Now get going. This is your big day, right? You should enjoy it, you made this happen after all.” 

Her brother chuckled, no doubt thinking that she was none the wiser to his machinations. He didn’t know she’d intentionally sent almost all the guards to the wedding route, to keep her departure as free of questions as possible. He didn’t really need to know that, did he? 

“I’ll do my best. See you after your patrol, try not to miss too much or the ceremony.”

Gaz gave a brief nod, watching as Zib walked away with a wave, far too nonchalant for the exhaustion that hung around him like a fog. Gaz’s light smile dropped into a scowl.

“You made this happen. You deserve everything that happens today.”

Anger burning away all flickers of doubt, she continued down the corridor, the door to the accursed study coming up before her, imposing in its benign appearance. Gaz drew her sword, took a deep breath and slowly swung the door open, still amazed that the door remained unlocked despite everything. 

Tunnel vision ran strong in the family it seemed. 

Either that or terrible sleep habits. 

Both were constants if she was being honest. 

Opening the door, the suit of armor that Zib had written so excitedly about stood, as promised, besides Dib’s mirror, a faint purple glow emanating from beneath the visor. Without hesitation Gaz lunged for the creature, aiming straight for the slit in the helmet where the eyes would be, the faint shimmer of a crystal visible even from this distance. The sooner this thing was taken care of, the sooner she could free Dib. 

The purple glow flared brighter, its previous inert state springing to life with a speed far faster than Gaz expected. The longsword coming to meet her own with a sharp clang, the sound echoing in the small room.

From behind a bookcase a familiar bark sounded, Gir pulling and tugging at a short leather leash, unable to fully bite through it. 

Dib seemed to jolt in slow motion at the sudden surge in action, even only in her periphery Gaz could see how sluggish his movements were. She hadn’t even realized that her attention was drifting towards him until her sword nearly slipped from her grasp, pushed away by the enchanted suit. 

“Gaz!”

  
  
Gods even his words still sounded slurred. Widening her stance once more, Gaz swung at the joint connecting the suit’s dominant arm to the torso. This blow too failed to connect, the suit’s sword meeting hers once again. With a shove Gaz was forced to take a step back, of course this thing would be stronger than the average human. Why not at this point.

Her repeated attempts must have garnered the full focus of the vessel, that’s what it was really, because now it actively attacked her relentlessly, no longer simply reacting to her movements. Sweeping blows came from all sides, an advance that drove Gaz back in the limited space of the study, her back soon meeting the cold stone of the wall. 

She braced herself for another hit, her left foot pressed down into the corner. The vessel brought its sword down, and she was forced to bring her right hand up against her own blade to keep it above her head, her muscles straining. 

Without warning the attack from above stopped, causing Gaz to tumble forward. She was only able to barely catch herself before having to jump out of the way yet again, the combined movement sending her crashing into the bookcase. She knew that move, she’d used it several times before on overconfident new recruits who wanted to try and take her down a peg. Gaz held in a scream of frustration, she should’ve known that Zib’s increased interest in her training was just another ploy. 

Pushing herself into a steady position again, Gaz thought for a brief moment about cutting Gir free, but given the size of the room, and Gir’s tendency to wreck both friend and foe when he got overly excited. She just couldn’t have that risk. 

She let out a soft, “Sorry bud”, before zeroing in on the suit again. It was moving towards Dib’s mirror, sword prepared to thrust into the fragile glass, intent on carrying out its original purpose. Dib moved back, even though they both knew it wouldn’t do anything. Fear shown in his eyes, looking desperately to his slightly staggered sister.

With a cry, Gaz sprinted in front of the advancing vessel, parrying the thrust with a quick circle, forcing the suit back. Gaz matched the vessels’ copied moves with ease now, spotting her tricks and habits, then countering. With each exchange, the armor slowed, previously precise movements wider, more easily blocked. Inhuman speed becoming closer to mortal, then slowing further.

Gaz felt a feral smile stretch across her face. 

The vessel clearly wasn’t meant to be active for this long, its only purpose was to stand at attention until the wedding was finished or Zib gave the order to shatter. Now that her doppelganger was faced with a real challenge, an equal, the energy that fueled it was running low. Sidestepping another wide miss, Gaz remembered Tak’s playful taunts during their late night duels, exchanging compliments and barbs as easily as blows. 

Her only equal in swordsmanship and wit, the only companion she trusted outside of her family. What was it she always said when Gaz pushed herself too far?

_“When you get tired, you get sloppy.”_

She wanted to laugh as the vessel rolled its shoulders, squaring back up with her as it held the longsword tight. Her tells really were as obvious as Tak always teased. 

_“Your form goes out the window, and you just go into a rage.”_

Gaz took a step back, ducking and weaving through a dance she'd memorized long ago, over years and years of outwitting, outlasting her opponents. 

_“It’s really easy to find an opening then. It’s just a matter of dodging long enough to get in one good hit.”_

Gaz smirked, watching the vessel bring its sword above its head for a final blow, the stance far too narrow, movements sluggish, purple magic flickering. 

“And that’s all there is to it.” 

Gaz ducked under the wild sword, the blade lodging into the wood of the desk. As the vessel tried to pull the weapon free, finding no luck, Gaz cut off the left arm, hollow armor falling to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet. Without missing a beat, she whipped around, swiftly removing the head of the suit and stabbing the crystal embedded within it; the purple energy dissipating, leaving only darkened shards. 

“Good fucking riddance. What a waste of perfectly good armor.” 

For good measure, Gaz stomped down on the helmet, leaving a sizable dent in the helm. Sending one last glance in its direction to make sure it stayed down, Gaz brought out the hand mirror she’d stowed away under her armor, pressing the surface to the image of her brother. 

“Let this work, please…” 

Before her eyes, like he’d never been there in the first place, Gaz stared only at herself in the mirror.

“It- it worked,” Dib’s voice piped quietly from his new, more mobile mirror, “it really worked!”

A stinging sensation at the corners of her eyes intensified for a moment, but Gaz couldn’t afford to revel in this; the fight with the vessel had eaten up too much of their limited time already. Gir was the next to be freed, the leash falling to the floor to be chewed on by a vengeful dog. 

Ignoring the no doubt priceless tomes and artifacts now littering the floor, Gaz scooped up Gir in one hand, holding Dib’s mirror in the other. She could see the excitement past the trepidation on Dib’s face, finally about to leave the study for the first time in over a month. 

“Are you ready for this Dib?”

The oak door swung out, letting the sibling leave the demolished room behind. 

“The sooner I can feel my hands again the better.”

  
  
“Why, so you can punch Zib too?”

Dib’s hopeful expression faded slightly, twisting into something more somber, “Honestly I just want to be able to hold you and Zim again. I want to get out of this…”

  
  
“Well, we just need to get to the wedding, and we can finally put this behind us.” 

The trio traveled in silence to the front of the castle, the bright sun cutting a small hole through the gathering grey clouds. Setting Gir down, she waited for the dog to grow, to expand to his larger size. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t spoken a word since she’d seen him, merely barking warnings and greetings. Gaz knelt down, scratching behind Gir’s ears. 

“Gir, why are you still small? I need you to go full sized.”

  
  
The pup whined, bringing a paw up to the collar around his neck, one she did not recognize, nor remember him having before. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

  
  
“Oh of course he did. He’s just asking for one of us to pulverize him at this point. Let me get that for you.”

Gaz tore the leather band off of the green pup, standing back as his form stretched and expanded to its full height. She sputtered when Gir placed an overenthusiastic kiss to her face, coating her in drool. 

“I missed you too bud,” Gaz wiped the saliva away, laughing slightly, “now let’s go stop a wedding. Zim needs us.”

“Master!?”

She never expected to miss that overly excited voice, and yet, here she was. 

“Yes Gir, he also told me you’re a good boy and he’ll give you the biggest treat the faster you can get to the big building with the bells, you know that one?”

“Yes!”

“Good boy, now let me on.”

Gir let out a happy yip, bending down to let Gaz onto his back, taking off without warning the second she was on. Gaz gripped his green fur tight with her left hand making sure to keep Dib’s mirror close to her chest, gritting her teeth as the wind whipped past her face. 

Bells tolled faintly in the distance; the ceremony was starting.

“Hold on, just hold on,” her brother’s faint voice repeated his mantra, whether to himself, to Zim, to her, or some combination of the three she couldn’t tell. 

“It won’t take long Dib, we’re almost there.” 

And though time was fast slipping from her fingers, Gaz felt no fear or doubt. It was time to bring Zib’s madness to end, for good. 

It was time to make him pay.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this was a bitch and a half to write. Why did I plan for a fight scene? Why did I add another one later? With so many people? Kill me. Anyway Gaz is best girl, she wins battles with the power of gay and family, good shit.


	3. I Come With Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ceremony is underway, a signal is sounded, a statement is made.

Zim walked along with Tak, the corridor silent save for the sound of their footsteps on the carpet. Neither exchanged a word in the transit, though Tak turned to face Zim several times, the words died on the tip of her tongue. Zim was sure it was his expression, no doubt showing the many warring feelings battling in his mind. 

His hand drifted toward the knife buried under the many layers of fabric, its weight grounding him slightly. Zim still remembered the face Dib made when he’d presented it to him almost two years ago. The Tierran prince had almost thrown him out of the rowboat they’d taken out for the fall festival before Zim managed to hastily explain its meaning.

The blade hadn’t left the prince’s side after that, Dib taking the vow on the blade, “Forever Bound”, as seriously as he took all of his promises. And Zim couldn’t have been happier at the time. Dib was always, no not was,  _ is _ his equal in everything. In wits, in battle, in love. He could ask for no one better.

All Zim wanted was to hold Dib again. 

The figure next to the door of the cathedral startled Zim out of his thoughts. He’d expected to see the empress, clad in her usual blues and silvers towering over him. Instead, his brother stood, speaking quietly to his personal attendant. 

“Mika, head to the main doors, take Tak with you and stand by for the ceremony. I wish to speak with my brother for a moment. ” 

The silver haired guard nodded, watching Zim walk away with Tak by his side, sending one last glance before the two both disappeared down the hall. Zim looked his brother up and down, searching his eyes for that damned blue color, but finding only crimson to his relief. 

“Red, I thought that…”

“That Miyuki would be the one to walk you? She’s still unwell unfortunately,” he smoothed a stray piece of hair back, huffing slightly, “She did send along her sincerest regret that she will not be able to see this ceremony.”

“Did she now?”

Red let out a chuckle, turning out to stare out the window at the gathered crowds, their silhouettes barely visible through the stained glass, “She wished to be able to speak to Zib personally. Whatever that meant, but I’m sure you can imagine.”

Zim gave a weak smile, recalling some of her more colorful threats to forgien dignitaries, “I can. I definitely can.” 

“So,” Red’s tone grew grim, previous levity gone, “are you going to go through with this? This marriage?”

A barked laugh left his lips, “Absolutely not. We’re putting this whole fucking fiasco to bed once and for all.” 

Moving the layers to the side once more, the amber caught the light of the sun. Red’s eyes widened in delight. 

“Oh mother is truly going to wish she’d seen this.”

Zim could imagine the vindictive smile on her face, the cool satisfaction as she watched Zib take his rightful punishment. There were many good reasons King Membrane had wanted to solidify this treaty, and the rumors of what happened to those who crossed her did not play an insignificant role. 

“We’ll be able to tell her about it soon I’m sure.” 

A small flash of heat brought Zim’s attention to the ceremonial rapier at Red’s side, a bead of plasma burning at the tip.

“It’ll be a tale to tell for certain. Are you ready?”

“There’s no sense in delaying this now.”

Zim straightened his back, brushing the fabric of the dress down, ensuring the knife’s shape was drowned in the endless layers. Red reached out his arm, linking it with his younger sibling. Zim tried to remember the lessons Miyuki taught him about dealing with fear, anger, all emotions she as a queen could not show.

You needed to be stronger than them, remember you are better, and never let them see you flinch. Unfeeling, a perfect statue of ice. 

He hoped he could keep that facade up. 

The pair returned to the door and with a deafening silence, it opened. Hundreds of eyes locked onto him, a crowd standing in unison, enclosing him in on all sides. Funneling him towards Zib. 

His tormentor looked satisfied, somewhat more put together than the mess that’d spoken to him not long before. Almost a portrait of royalty if not for his complexion. And personality. 

Zim did his best to keep his head held high, each step deliberate. Maintaining his gaze forward on the future. As much as he’d like to look to Red for reassurance, this was not the place for any sign of weakness. 

Red pulled away from Zim to take his place by Purple's side, leaving him standing at the altar. The music that softly announced his arrival faded, Zib taking the opportunity to lean towards him, sly smile on his face.   
  
“So glad you made it, you do look lovely.”

Zim had to resist the temptation to spit out several vitriolic retorts.

“I could say the same.”

Zib hummed, straightening and nodding at his father. The king looked as imposing as ever, towering over all in attendance. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

  
  
  


_ He looked out at his surroundings, blinking slowly at the speeding houses and trees. He could hear the thundering sound of Gir’s paws against the ground, Gaz’s heartbeat as she held him close. Dib never thought that the cathedral was that far from the castle, yet the distance seemed to stretch infinitely on, the building ever out of reach.  _

_ The flicker of hope in his chest continued to burn, even in spite of the winds threatening to put it out.  _

  
  
  


Membrane’s usual lectures felt like molasses, each moment dragging on, yet the man seemed to be speaking at twice his regular speed. Each part of the usual congratulations, the thanking of those gathered, commiserating the momentous occasion, passed faster than the last. 

Doubt began to tug at the corners of Zim’s mind, traitorous and sickly sweet. He knew that he had Red, Purple, and Tak, but what if Gaz couldn’t defeat the enchanted armor in time?

What then?

  
  
  


_ The slight unraveling of his memories was still an ever present sensation. He knew that transferring to the smaller mirror would have consequences, the notes suggested it’d take energy, whether from the user or the caster. And since there was no caster… well. But he didn’t want to let Gaz know how much it took from him. She needed to focus on getting him to the wedding, any panic would only cause more problems. _

_ He’d focus on keeping himself together in the meantime.  _

_ It was all he could do anymore really.  _

  
  
  


If she’d failed, as impossible as that was, and Zim made a move against Zib, could he live with knowing that he’d caused Dib’s shattering?

Would it even be worth keeping Dib in that state though, if only to hold onto the vain hope that Zib’s mind could change? His one love only half alive for the rest of the duration of the curse?

What was he even supposed to do?

  
  
  


_ Dib watched Gaz’s face twist, soft curses escalating into full on shouting, the few townspeople not attending the wedding staring at the sight of the princess of Tierras riding on Zim’s hound.  _

_ “Shit. Shit we’re not going to make it in time. We’re not going to make it. The wedding’s already started and father made sure that he wouldn’t ramble for once. Of course it was for this of all things.” _

_ Fear coursed through Dib at the thought of Zim forever being trapped in Zib’s grasp, of what that meant for their kingdoms, for himself.  _

_ “We need to let them know we’re on our way, they have to stall for time.” _

_ Gaz turned her head down to him, “How though?” _

_ Memories swirled indistinct, Dib tried to wrack his brain for some way they could, from this distance, alert Zim. Neither of the two of them could possibly yell loud enough, then what- _

_ Dib then remembered who exactly was getting them to the wedding in the first place.  _

  
  
  


“Do you, Prince Zib of Tierras, vow to take Zim as your lawfully wedded husband, binding our kingdom to his, together in peace?”

“I do.”

  
  
  


_ Dib gathered his strength, hoping beyond hope that they were close enough for Zim to hear.  _

_ “Gir, speak.” _

  
  
  


A familiar howl met Zim’s ears, soft, but distinct. Only one person knew how to get Gir to speak like that. He’d tried to teach Gir to follow the same command from a different person, yelling at the time as Gir refused to respond the same way he did to Zim. 

And only one other person could have freed them both.

“Do you, Prince Zim of Irk, vow to take Zib as your lawfully wedded husband, binding your kingdom to ours, together in peace?”

Zim let out a soft breath, raising his gaze to meet Zib’s, sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

“I…”

His fist connected with the dark prince’s face with a resounding crack. A collective gasp rippling through the crowd. Zim snarled, pulling the knife out and brandishing it in front of him. 

“I don’t.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GET! HIS! ASS! So, I've been waiting for this moment for a *hot* minute. Zim's "I don't" was one of the first ideas I had for the wedding tbh. Oh man, it's about to go down and I hope y'all are fucking prepared. Sorry for the relatively short chapter, I had this originally split into a few different ones, but figured this flowed better. 
> 
> Zim's out here doing what he does best. Causing a fucking ruckus. Good for him.


	4. Nothing Left To Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our characters finally unite, the final battle begins and ends, and fate tosses a final coin.

The cathedral echoed the crack of Zim’s fist against Zib’s face endlessly. The ‘groom’ stumbling back before landing hard on the ground, nose leaking blood onto his dark suit. The rustle of the crowd grew louder by the second. Out of the corner of his eye, Zim swore he saw two people exchange a handful of cash. Somehow it didn’t surprise him.

Zim redirected his attention back to Zib, the man staggering back to his feet like a drunkard. A small swell of pride bloomed as Zim admired the bruise already starting to form, stark purple against green.

“Did you really think for a  _ second _ that I’d go along with this farce any longer? Really?” 

Zim could feel his heart pound in his chest, threatening to go faster at any moment. The knife shook in his hands, though that was from rage, his nerves gone. 

“After everything you’ve done to me, my family, hell,  _ your family _ ? No. Absolutely not.”

King Membrane took a step to his son, holding a hand to the blood pouring from Zib’s nose and blocking Zim from taking another swing at him. 

“What is the meaning of this? Have you lost your mind?”

“No, I can assure you that I am perfectly sane. Your son on the other hand I question. Now Zib, would  _ you _ like to tell your father, and the crowd, what you’ve done, or would you rather I elaborate. Because I am more than happy to.” 

Before Zim could blink, several guards rushed to defend their charges, a row of swords standing between the royal family and the now enemy. 

“Excuse us, King Membrane,” Red stood from his place in the front row, Purple following close behind, “but Zim is well within his rights. Your son has violated several laws, and committed a variety of heinous acts. As such, we would advise that your guards stand down.”

Membrane started to raise a hand, hesitant to make any move in this precarious situation. Zib sputtered, incredulous.

“You can’t actually believe this nonsense can you?”

“Son, I am unsure what they are talking about but we cannot cause an incident.”

“Zim is threatening me with a knife! I’m fairly certain that constitutes an ‘incident’, father.”

“And I’m sure the attempted murder of your brother is entirely within your rights. Or am I misremembering things?” Zim moved closer, “Did you not get him out of the way so you could have the throne like you’d wanted? Lying to your whole family, hell, the whole kingdom just to grab the power you craved? Please correct me if I’m wrong  _ your highness _ .”

The crowd muttered and whispered. Zim knew that Zib had never quite been able to shake suspicions of foul play, and Zib knew it too. He could see it in the rising panic, the sweat dripping down the prince’s face. 

Before Zib could attempt to defend himself any further, doors of the cathedral opened with a slam, the youngest Membrane sibling standing alone in the doorway, slightly out of breath, face flush. All movement and noise stopped, the whole room waiting to see what the warrior princess would do. 

Zim wanted to laugh at Zib’s relief at the interruption. He thought that he was out of the woods now that he had his beloved sister in his corner. He really was sure that this would end in his favor.

Perfect. 

Gaz walked steadily towards the altar, face stony and cold. With a fluid motion she unsheathed her blade, small nicks, no doubt from her battle with the enchanted armor, marring its normally well kept surface. 

“Gaz, thank the gods you made it! I have no idea what has gotten into Zim or the other Irkens, this might be a coup and-”

“I know.”

Zib fell silent with a raise of her hand. 

Gaz stood before the split crowd, the Irken royalty with their weapons drawn to her right, Zib and Membrane with the guard behind them to the left. Brow furrowed, she moved to join her family, her off hand clutching at her armor. But instead of pointing her blade toward Zim, she pivoted, staring down her brother instead. 

Zib paled, wide unbelieving eyes staring at the sword trained on his throat. 

“For the good of this kingdom, Zib Membrane, I am asking that you surrender quietly.” 

“Gaz- Gaz what are you doing?”

Gaz let out a sneer, “Something I should’ve done a long time ago. Now, you can either keep digging this hole for yourself or,” Gaz pulled out a small hand mirror facing it towards Zib, “you can make things right. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

Zim could barely make out the form of Dib in the mirror, pleading eyes turned to his brother. 

“Please Zib,” the voice from the glass causing the king to startle, “just… end this now. Please.” 

The monarch twisted and turned for the source of the voice, “Who said that? Who dares-”

“Dad, it’s me, it’s Dib. I’m- I am here.”

Zib stood frozen, much to Zim’s delight, as Membrane looked at the mirror, then at the furious Irkens, then at Gaz. His previously confident posture deflating. 

“What- Zib what have you  _ done _ ? What is this-”   
  


Zim met the confused gaze of the king, “It’s as I said. Zib has lied to all of us, I can assure you that that is your son in that mirror, and that no one, not even Red and Purple, were spared his machinations.”

“I don’t understand…”

While her father did his best to collect answers, and the crowd remained enraptured, Gaz continued to hold her sword to her brother, awaiting his surrender. 

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

A small huff left Zib, his slumped shoulders lifting slightly. Then he began to chuckle, bringing a hand to his face before cackling out right, the guards surrounding him backing away slowly. As the laughter trailed off, the wide, unhinged grin remained, desperate and wild. 

“E-end this now huh? That’s funny. That’s  _ really fucking funny. _ Honestly Dib? That’s what I’ve been wanting to do all  _ fucking  _ day.” 

Zib’s hands flared purple, “I am so  _ tired _ of having to deal with you  _ constantly _ getting in the way of what I want, time after time- And  **_you_ ** ,” Zib glared at Zim, “really could not fucking cooperate for one day could you? No matter. No I am not going to let this be how it ends. I will not fucking lose. I  **refuse** .”

With that final declaration, the purple energy coalesced to form an arcane blade, jaded and black, swiping away Gaz’s sword as Zib lunged toward her, hand outstretched to grab at the small hand mirror. 

Without hesitation, Gaz beat him back, parrying her brother’s wild swings, sparks of energy flying off with each blow. Zim winced as Gaz whirled and maneuvered to keep Dib out of harm's way, the glass coming far too close for comfort to both the sword and Zib’s free hand. 

Red and Purple moved to assist, but were blocked by the guards. Heated words were exchanged as they tried to move past the uneasy blockade, even Tak and the handful of other Irken soldiers were prevented from coming closer. 

“Zim! Catch!” 

Zim could hear a faint, “Wait Gaz what?!” before the hand mirror sailed across the room towards him alarmingly fast. Even despite the heels, Zim sprinted to catch it, clutching the glass close to his chest. He dared to look down, and though his figure was faint, there was life and hope in his amber eyes.

“Hi.”

“I save your life again and all you can say to me is hi?”

Dib smiled softly, “I never am good with words around you.”

Tears pricked at Zim’s eyes.

“Sap.”

Those in attendance decided at that point that watching this drama play out would be far more dangerous to their health than the entertainment was worth, and began to retreat for the open door, some of them interrupted by the appearance of a large green dog bounding towards his master. 

“Gir!” 

The pup bowled into Zim, happily licking his face with all his usual gusto. Zim buried his face in that comforting fur only for a moment, before directing him to stand by King Membrane. He didn’t know what else Zib had planned but he had a gut feeling that whatever it was wouldn’t be good.

Gaz continued to clash with Zib, and now unencumbered by her brother’s prison in her hand. 

“Just give up already! You know you can’t beat me, you’re outnumbered, why are you still doing this?”

Zib’s sword vanished, causing her to fall forward. The metal hit the stone floor inches from where Zib had been only moments prior. 

“Defeating you in swordplay wasn’t the point dear sister. The point was to distract you long enough for the other spell to work.”

Before Gaz could question him, Red and Purple collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads in pain. Tak sprinted to aid the two, but before she could reach them, a bolt of plasma sent her ducking for cover. Zim watched in horror as the Irken princes staggered to their feet, eyes entirely engulfed in blue, rapiers ablaze with molten flame. 

“Shit.” 

Their empty gazes trained in on the hand mirror, predatory and promising danger. The overwhelming confidence in their advantage over Zib diminishing greatly. Gaz moved to block the pair, Tak quickly joining her as the four blades met with a clang. Errant magic flew across the room, making Zim all the more grateful he’d sent Gir to protect the king as one bolt bounced off of the invulnerable dog. 

With all other obstacles gone, Zib rounded on Zim, trembling but furious. Zim widened his stance, holding the knife forward. 

“I had hoped to avoid this, but you have forced my hand. Did you really think I wouldn’t have a back up plan?”

Zim clutched Dib close to him, “You certainly didn’t see that punch coming, did you?”

The slight flush of embarrassment stood stark against Zib’s stern demeanor. The prince narrowed his eyes.

“Always with the comments, you just don’t learn.”

“It never was a strong suit of mine I’ll admit. You should know that by now.”

Brandishing the knife, Zim caught the inside of Zib’s arm as he tried once more to obtain his brother’s mirror. Making sure to dig in more than was likely necessary to make a point. As he pulled it out, he made sure to keep the weapon right in Zib’s line of sight. 

A threat.

“ _ Fucker _ ,” Zib clutched at his now bleeding arm, panting slightly, “why you don’t stop fighting, I don’t think I’ll understand. So now, I’m going to  _ tell _ you to stop fighting back,” nauesa roiled in Zim’s stomach as the spell he reviled clawed its way back into his mind, “ _ Zim.” _

“No, no no  _ no- _ ”

He tried to turn and look away, he could hear Dib trying to keep him grounded, the ringing of Tak and Gaz’s swords against Red and Purple’s, the weight of the dagger in his hand, he clung to each sensation, but even still, each step he took back slowed until he was frozen in place. Helpless as Zib leered, snatching Dib from him once again. Raising his hand high. 

“Now, let’s end this, once and for all.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, you all thought I’d forgotten about Red and Purples spell didn’t you? Lmao you WISH. Looks like we’re fucking *in* for it now. Man Zib is just... making some life choices huh. He’s just mcfucking lost it. Oh well, the next chapter will be fun as a result, I’ll tell you that. :) 
> 
> To break or not to break... that is the question...


	5. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coin flips, a decision is at last made, the consequences are dire.

Zib panted, every part of his body aching. He stood, legs trembling, alone at the altar. Any part of his mind that could still be considered sane screamed at him to stop, to just lay down and rest, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. 

Nor was it what the rest of the silent room was focused on. 

No, their attention was directed to the small mirror clutched in his hand, hung limply at his side. 

He couldn’t help the laughs pouring out from his mouth, unhinged and breathless. It’d taken everything he had to get to this moment, but here he was. He was finally, _finally_ , going to end this. 

Not even the vacant stare of Zim, tears still flowing down his face would stop him. Not the frustrated yells of his sister. Not the horrified look on his father’s face, or what little he could even see of it. 

“You know,” Zib spoke to no one in particular, looking out at the empty rows of seats, at the frozen combatants, “I will admit. You really fucking almost had me. You almost did it. But I am not going to let you take this from me. I am not going to let you win. It is _my turn to win_.”

A voice piped up from the mirror in his hand, halting his train of thought completely. 

“Win what?”

“Excuse me?” 

Zib’s eye twitched, arm drifting ever close to the sky. Gaze trained on the floor ahead of him. It wouldn’t take much, all he had to do was break the mirror. That’s all he had to do. He didn’t need to listen to this, didn’t have to take this, and yet… Yet he couldn’t resist. 

“What will you have after this? There is no victory, no happiness, not like this! Look around Zib!”

That familiar anger surged through him, white hot and painful. He knew that, he’d always known but it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, IT. _DID NOT._ **_MATTER._**

“WAS THERE EVER ANY HAPPINESS FOR ME? WAS THERE DIB? I was nothing, _nothing,_ more than a fucking spare my whole life, a fucking afterthought. A goddamn reflection of you that no one wanted, that they only looked at in disappointment when they realized it wasn’t you. EVEN-”

His words caught in his throat, an embarrassing show of weakness, “Even father didn’t want me around. It was _always_ about you.”

  
  
“What’s this going to fix?! Zib please-”

“ENOUGH,” he could feel his body tense, ever threatening to give out, but he ignored it, “Enough, enough, I don’t want your fucking pity! I want this all to _end_.” 

Zib clutched at his hair with his free hand, hunching inwards. Swallowing back the lump in his throat that kept threatening to come forward and break him. 

“Look at yourself Zib, and tell me that you really believe that. Is what you’ve done to yourself worth it? How much more can you take?”

“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO-”

The thing in the mirror stopped. Behind Dib, he could just make out a face, green and snaked with pink veins, a deep purple bruise blooming across one cheek. Eyes wild and crazed, face sallow. As the face fell, it really, _truly_ , dawned on Zib. That was him. Who he’d become. 

He hadn’t even noticed what he looked like before now. 

How strange. 

“Huh, would you look at that.”

Even to him, the words sounded hollow. Devoid of life. 

“I don’t even look like you anymore.”

Warm tears streamed down his face. 

“After all this time,” the laughter was more subdued now, broken and cracking, “after all these years; that’s what it took. Who would’ve thought. All I had to do… was destroy everything… to get what I really wanted…” 

All the anger and energy left him at once, the thrum of the mind control the only tether to the manic high he once felt. 

He knew the heavy footsteps of his father without having to look up. The man standing before the bowed form of his son, well. Sons. They were both there after all. 

“Son…” 

He couldn’t help the step back at the tone, one he hadn’t heard his father take with him since he… since he used to go to the king’s room as a child, when the nightmares were too much even for Dib to soothe. A hand rested on his shoulder, an anvil of compassion. 

“I… I am sorry that I have made you feel this way. You were never disposable, never. I should have been by your side. Please, Zib, I don’t know how you did any of this, but I know I'm responsible for this. Please, don't take this out on your brother.”

By all means this shouldn’t stop him. Then why, why did his heart ache at the words? Why was he still so weak?

“I love you son. It should not have taken this for me to truly see what I’ve done…”

Shaking off the hand on his shoulder, Zib held the mirror high still. Backing away from his father’s outstretched hand. This was a trick, it had to be.

“No, no no no-”

“Zib please, I know that you are better than this.”

“D-don’t pretend to care, don’t pretend to know me, don’t- don’t make me believe you aren’t just going to throw me aside when Dib is free-”

“There will be punishment, but this is killing you. I didn’t see it before, but I do now. I can’t lose my sons like this. Please.”

“Zib, please,” Dib whispered one final time, “do the right thing.”

All he could let out was a whisper, “Fine. Fine you win.”

Unable to withstand the pressure, the beseeching eyes of his family, and the memory of a child pained by what he saw too much to bear, at last he let go. The spell binding the Irkens to him fading, the blue vanishing. The previously entranced Irkens falling free of their strings and into those who had moments ago been their opponents. 

A piece of Zib screamed to keep fighting, but the exhaustion drowned it out. This was all so futile, wasn’t it? He didn’t want it to be, but… 

“What am I,” his mind tore itself in two, wanting to fix, wanting to fight, “what am I _doing_ ? What have I _done_?”

As if the universe heard him, his desperate questions, it answered.The strain of the many spells he’d cast far reached over the limit. There was no warning, no slow creep of pins and needles, escalating to its painful crescendo. Not this time.

Zib barely braced for impact with the one arm not holding the mirror, landing and snapping something, not that he could make out the pain through the fire searing him from the inside out. Muffled voices swam around him, frightened, angered, frantic, indistinct. They didn’t really matter. 

The constriction in his chest was more worrying. 

No, not worrying, terrifying. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, trapped in a cage of all encompassing pain yet again. Black crept into the corners of his vision with alarming speed, engulfing the altar and his father, leaving him alone. The taste of blood mixing with the salt of his tears on his tongue. 

This was his end, wasn’t it? And what could he do but suffer through it. 

The physical sensation of his brother’s prison against his chest shone through the maelstrom of pain wracking Zib’s body. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t even hear the man trapped within, let alone his own screams, but he knew. This was his legacy. What he’d done. What he’d forever be remembered for. 

But what if he didn’t fix this. How ironic, how poetic it would be should they both perish here. Membrane deprived of both his heirs. 

What if, _what if-_

The vice around his lungs tightened in response, as if to tell him no- no he couldn’t- 

He wanted to though. As one final move of spite. A last laugh. 

It wouldn’t be worth it though, no. NO. 

The sound of his younger self, that damned question kept ringing. It wasn’t worth it, it was never worth it, he’d always been a damned good liar and for a time he’d managed to fool himself. 

No longer. 

He wouldn’t be the monster, not this time. 

Zib would forever be the villain, it was the truth. But he- 

He couldn’t be a murderer. 

Letting Dib fade was his cowardice, a death by omission. Neglect. In the end he knew what few morals he could still claim to have prevented the final act. 

Pouring the little strength he still possessed, clumsy and unguided, he wanted, he _willed_ for Dib to be set free. He pictured Dib’s life, all of the pitfalls and opportunities he’d stolen in his desperate grab for attention, the one he’d irrevocably ruined, and he willed him to please, please

_**come back. Undo what he'd done.**_

The world tilted on its axis, even from his position on the ground, clutched and curled in a pathetic heap, he couldn’t tell what direction was up. All of it too much, too painful, but he kept sinking his last into this spell. If it was the last thing he’d do, then so be it. 

Even as the last shreds of his pride screamed no, he persisted. 

The pain felt cathartic- freeing really- 

Was it what he deserved?

Perhaps.

And as his tired mind decided at last to put him out of his misery, a slight warmth brushed his hand, just for the briefest of moments.

The last thing that the prince knew before the blackness swallowed him whole was the tinkling sound of glass.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm. And so it begins. The picking up of the pieces. Well, at the very least, Membrane was able to attempt? *give him a shitty gold star* Anywho... time to vanish for another week while school kicks my ass.


	6. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mirror shatters, and the world can breathe again.

There was only silence in the cathedral now. 

The agonized screams of the prince had died away, his cries, the last desperate pleas faded to whimpers, then to nothing. 

Zim came to as the spell over his mind faded for a second time that cursed day. A mirror broke, the light tinkling of the shards a sharp contrast to the burden they carried.

And he couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think. 

No.

“ _NO.”_

Zim grabbed the dagger that had slipped from his stupefied grip, roaring. Distantly he saw Red and Purple release their equally enraged and dumbstruck former combatants. But that wasn’t what he was focused on. 

Zim was focused on the crumpled prince, his former captor. His _enemy_. And driving his beloved’s blade through Zib’s wicked heart. 

He had to, he _needed to_.

A quiet “Dib” stopped him in his tracks before he could get far. The voice of the king. A voice so strong quavering, it broke the shroud of anger sending him forward. The full weight of everything forcing his knees to buckle and fail him. 

The despair welling up in his throat threatening to swallow him whole and drag him back down to the depths. 

A second cry of “Dib”, caught Zim before he fell too deep, it was Gaz’s voice. Hesitant, but… joyous. Joyous? Zim looked up to see Gaz smiling in disbelief, eyes wide open. Following her stare, Zim’s jaw dropped. 

There, cradled in the king’s arms, was a man. Clad all in blue. A face he’d dreamed of seeing again, holding again. One he’d feared was just destroyed forever. But here he was. _Here he was._

“Dib!” 

Zim scrambled to his feet, cursing at the layers of fabric surrounding him, hoisting the skirt to sprint, as fast as he was able, to his love’s side. 

The soft rise and fall of Dib’s chest sending hope coursing through Zim’s veins. 

Gaz soon joined him, the two hovering over the king and his precious cargo. Almost afraid to touch the sleeping prince for fear that he would disappear under his touch. But as Zim kneeled and made contact, Dib remained. 

Physical.

  
Real.

The once trapped prince leaned into Zim’s hand, eyes fluttering open, gaze unfocused. 

“Dib, Dib can you hear us?” 

Gaz started to shake Dib, stopping at the slight shake of her father’s head. She instead reached for Dib’s hand clutching it tight. It took a few more agonizing minutes for Dib to process what was happening around him, the dazed expression turning to mild shock. 

“Wh..” 

“Son-”

“Dib-“

“Dib-“

Three voices cried out in unison, and understanding sparked in Dib, hands brushing fabric and _feeling_. A self made whole, no gaps in memory, no barriers. Weight and sensation returned after almost a year without. 

“I- I’m free. Gods above I’m free!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Zim dove forward, pulling his true love close, out of the arms of his father. Holding onto Dib for dear life. The soft thud of Dib’s heart beat a blessing from the gods. Tears flowed freely, soaking into the silk of Dib’s jacket and his own gown. His breath hitched again as he felt a calloused hand brush his cheek

“You’re ok, Zim- Zim you’re ok right?”

Zim pulled back, incredulous at the relief on his beloved’s face. So relieved for Zim’s safety and happiness above his own. 

“You _idiot_ , I almost lost you, I almost lost you forever you almost _died_ , why are you saying I’m ok?”

“Can’t help it, I was so worried…”  
  


“You fucking dumbass,” Zim let a choked laugh out, beaming, “Don’t- don’t look at me like that, I can’t believe you, he had you and he almost- he would’ve-”

Dib pushed himself up, arms trembling, pressing his lips to Zim’s, cutting all words off. He smiled softly as he pulled back from the Irken prince. 

“I’m here Zim, I’m here.” 

Zim pressed his forehead to Dib’s, mind still searching for any sign of falsehood, of deceit. He shoved those thoughts aside, letting the reality comfort him.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” the pair’s lips met again, and again, and again, finding one another after so long apart. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Zim swore he saw a stray tear track down Gaz’s face before she glanced away. A muttered, “Saps”, made both of them chuckle. 

Dib went slightly slack in Zim’s arms, the former mirror bound prince no longer able to support himself on his own. 

“Dib?”

Zim hated how his voice tremorred. 

“Mm Zim, I’m… tired.”

“Hey, no stay with me. Dib, do not fucking pass out on me, you hear me!”

Dib struggled to keep his head upright to look at Zim, clearly exhausted.

“It’s ok Zim, we’re all ok. It’ll be alright… I know you’ll be there when I wake up… that’s all I need...”

As hard as Dib wanted to fight, it was futile, the siren’s song of slumber lulled him in, his breaths steady and quiet, a soft smile on his features. 

The two sat there for a small eternity, Zim’s hand running through raven hair. How he wanted to start Dib awake again, but as if sensing his unease Gaz set a hand on Zim’s shoulder, “Let him rest. He’s… probably going to need a lot of time to recover.” 

Zim wiped at his eyes, smudging the black eyeliner onto his hands. Scowling he rubbed the black marks into the dress. The thing was tainted anyway, no sense in trying to keep it clean. 

“You’re right, I just can’t believe he’s really free.”

“How though,” Gaz furrowed her brow, looking to her father, “I could barely hear anything, I think Red got a hit in.”  
  
A distant muttered sorry rose from the Irken.

“I’m not sure- Zim was,” a flurry of emotions and spell work obstructed his recollection, “I don’t know-”

“It was Zib.”

King Membrane’s voice broke through their stalemate. Still shaken. 

“Zib, he freed Dib, even while he was going through that, he undid the spell.”

The three looked to Zib, his body still spasming. Choked, pained gasps leaving him. Zim would’ve felt pity had it been anyone else. 

Handing the slumbering Dib back to his father, he walked up to Zib’s prone form and kicked him once in the ribs. Watching the ragdoll form curl in slightly. If he’d been conscious, Zim would’ve congratulated him on doing the bare minimum to be a decent person. 

“...it took you long enough.”

Sneering, Zim turned away, looking at the gathered Membranes. 

“So. What, what exactly do we do now?”

Gaz whistled shrilly, and the guards that had so quickly fled the room returned with equal speed. Faces pale upon the sight of the presumed dead prince alive once more and the one who’d gone mad in front of the crowd collapsed and unmoving. 

But Gaz directed them just as if Zib were nothing more than a common criminal, and the guard listened to their captain. 

Swiftly, Zib was clasped in chains and hauled off, Gaz and Tak following behind. Heads held high. Tak leaning on her partner slightly. 

Red and Purple finally made their way over to the group, fussing over each other’s wounds and bickering softly. 

“...I told you there was something off about Zib, but _nooo_.”

“Oh you be quiet. Now,” Purple shuddered slightly, looking to Membrane and ignoring Red’s pout, “we have to inform Miykui of what occurred, so that a full investigation may commence. We can help with the semantics of what Zib did.”

“Thank you,” Membrane bowed slightly, “I apologize for allowing this to happen. This was caused by my own neglect and I am forever sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. We had our own… run in, and we assumed that he would not best us again. We, clearly, were wrong.” 

Membrane stood, cradling Dib in his arms. The sight might’ve been comical, the grown son eclipsed by his father, but the mood in the room was sullen. 

“We should get him to the healer’s chambers. Red, Purple, we will speak again in the morning. For now… I’ll be with my son.”

“We understand,” Red stepped forward, “take all the time you need.”

The king left the room, leaving only the Irkens. For a moment Zim stood, unsure. 

“Go,” Red urged. Voice uncharacteristically soft, “He’ll need you too.”

Zim rushed after Membrane, slowing to match the man’s pace. Not a word was exchanged. The two walked to the waiting carriage, Membrane laying his son gently across the bench inside. Zim knew his anxiety was palpable, yet it still took him aback when the normally stoic king knelt down to his eye level, setting steady hands on both his shoulders. 

“He will recover soon. Dib is strong, far stronger than I ever knew. Who knows, perhaps soon you will be able to have a wedding of your own, should you so wish it.”

Smiling, Zim nodded. 

“I would want nothing more. I meant what I told him. We are forever bound.”

The king chuckled.

“So it would appear.”

But Zim meant that far more than Membrane realized. 

Come what may, Zim would _never_ be separated from Dib ever again. He’d make sure of that. And hopefully soon, they could make that official, a declaration to the world that they could not, and would not, be torn from each other. 

He’d love Dib Membrane to his dying day.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last. At long, long, fucking last. The boys are together again. I promised you a happy ending, didn't I? This week has been. Well. Ya know. This was just something I needed to do. To have something... nice. Put some good in the world. But yeah, here we are, Dib and Zim are together, Zib has been undone by his own machinations, and now all that's left to do is to heal. And. If you so wish, a... less happy end can be shown. Lmao.


	7. Everything Stays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of festivities ends with a dance, and a promise remains fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, this takes place ~4 months after the failed wedding.

The sound of bells still rung through the evening air, though much quieter than they had earlier in the day. The joy of the kingdom at the union, the  _ rightful _ union, palpable. 

The whole affair had gone on for several days, with both Irken and Tierran traditions mixing, to do this right this time. Even Miyuki had managed to make it for the ceremony, much to Zim’s delight. Walking her youngest son down the aisle to a just as giddy Dib. The cheers at their kiss, sealing the treaty and their marriage had been deafening, but oh so worth it. 

Dib smiled softly as he sat out in the garden, watching the fireflies flit in the mid-summer’s air. The usual humidity gone, leaving Dib able to enjoy the stars’ shimmering dance without having to remove the cloak of his suit. He traced out the constellations and hummed. It’d been a long day, long few days really, he was happy for the rest. 

“Now what’re you doing out here by yourself?”

His husband’s voice startled Dib out of his reverie. He turned to Zim, standing just beside him, tapping his foot with mock impatience. 

“What, a man can’t sit out in his own garden?”

Zim rolled his eyes, “Not during his own wedding reception you dolt. I had a feeling you were out here though, so I just told them that you needed some rest, and you’d be back soon.”

Dib’s left hand gripped the gilded handle of the cane resting at his side. 

“Well you weren’t entirely wrong. Don’t mistake me, I’ve loved this whole event, it’s everything I dreamed of and more, but it is rather exhausting.”

Zim sat down on the bench beside him, plucking a blue flower from the bush beside him. Idly plucking the petals off while he spoke. 

“Tell me about it. I had to make sure Gir got his own cake to keep him out of the wedding cake. Him and cake I swear to the gods…”

“He shares your sweet tooth Zim, you can’t blame the pup. Like dog like owner as they say.”

“Feh,” a small tongue stuck out of Zim’s barely contained smile. “Like you’re any better. I recall quite a few parties where you were quite cozy with the fondue fountain.” 

Ok, Zim had him there. Turnabout is fair play.

“In my defense it made better company than the Irken nobles. I’m still not sure whether they like me or if they’re figuring out how best to poison me.”

With a wince, Zim chuckled, “They aren’t the most amazing conversationalists I’ll grant you that. Although I’ll admit, Red and Purple were… surprisingly kind in their words for Zim. I expected more jokes at my expense to be honest. It was nice, if a bit disarming.”

Dib reached out, adjusting the blue corsage on Zim’s chest, a perfect mir- spitting image of the pink blooms adorning his suit. 

“I’m not surprised, you went through a lot. I don’t think that any embarrassing moments would’ve been in good taste. I think that they wanted to make up for what happened, in some way.”

“Perhaps,” a more dour tone snuck into Zim’s voice, “I guess we’ve both survived our brothers’ attempts on our lives then. Though I’m more apt to forgive Red.”

“I don’t quite think that they’re entirely comparable, but that’s understandable. I’m still, well, I’m not sure about Zib.” 

His brother… He hadn’t heard much about Zib after he’d woken up. Most of his handful of questions went unanswered, with either scowls or brief shakes of the head, and he’d been left to fill in the blanks on his own. No matter how he tried though, he couldn’t help but wonder. Why?

Why had Zib done what he did to Dib in the first place? Beyond just the feelings of jealousy, why the mirror, why allow him to see, to act on his own for so long? Why hurt Zim like he did, stealing the soul from him?

Why free him, after he’d done all of that? 

What had changed?

He’d barely comprehended Zib’s breakdown during the wedding, the  _ failed _ wedding. One moment, his words fell on deaf ears, Zib fully ready to shatter him. The next his brother simply gave up, falling to the ground in pain and letting him go free, even though he looked like he was dying. Perhaps he had been. 

Yet Zib used what strength he had left to undo what he’d done. It left him wondering, with no one theory fitting. 

His silence spoke volumes to Zim, the Irken prince pursing his lips and huffing.

“What is there to question?”

He sighed, “A lot, I just want some answers after everything. I barely understood him before, even less now. It’s all so,” Dib looked once more at the cane that now never left his side, the handle of the hand mirror that saved him now the handle of the aid that supported him, “confusing. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“There’s always those journals. He may have something resembling a coherent or rational thought there, though given him I doubt it.”

“That’s true, but I don’t know if those will give the whole picture. I think… I think I need to hear it from him…”

He could have cut the tension with the sword hidden within the cane, and Zim’s shoulders raised, fury and fear flashing in his eyes, along with the slight glimmer of tears. 

“So you're really going to visit him? Really? He should rot! Alone! Forever! Zib does not deserve to see you again, let alone your kindness, not after the last year. After  _ everything _ . He almost made me watch you die, shattered in front of me. I was his puppet for so long- useless and complacent- If you go see him, and he tries to finish what he started, or worse- I couldn’t, I  _ can’t _ -”

Zim’s voice caught in his throat, hitching. He shook slightly and Dib could feel his own emotions forming a knot, preventing any words from escaping. But he wouldn’t let that stop him. They needed each other, now more than ever.

“Hey, hey listen to me,” Dib placed a hand on Zim’s shoulder squeezing tight, “nothing’s being decided right now. I’m still figuring it out myself, but that’s not important. Not at the moment. What matters is I’m here for my husband. Nothing else. Today’s our wedding day, Zim. And I want to spend it with you.”

His love let out a breath, the tension and anger draining away.

“You’re right, you’re right. Today’s about us, just us. He doesn’t get to taint this. We can talk about him later. For now, I get to enjoy being married. How crazy is that? Married... Imagine our younger selves seeing us now. They’d think it was a trick!”

A surprised snort left Dib, as images of their previous selves bickering and fighting flashed by. 

“Oh gods,  _ I’d  _ be yelling about mind control, saying you used your ‘Irken magic’ on me. You’d be gagging and retching for sure. Probably make some jab at my head still being big.”

“Your head _ is _ big Dib-love.”

“ _ Hey.” _

“It’s my big head though,” Zim held up his hand, letting the light play off of the golden band, “forever.”

Dib reached up and clasped that hand with his own, bringing it towards him and pressing a gentle kiss to Zim’s knuckles. 

“Forever. For as long as we both shall live.”

From the ballroom, the sound of violins drifted through the bushes and hedges, muffled by glass but still distinct. A soft waltz. One they, in all honesty, should’ve been inside for. But Dib was glad for the privacy, he’d had enough of the public spectacle for now. Like Zim said, this moment was for them and them alone.

Pushing to his feet, he held out his hand, like he had on the dancefloor countless times. And would countless more.

“May I have this dance?”

Zim rested his palm to Dib’s, making sure to apply no pressure, casting a brief look to the cane still sitting on the bench.

“It’s one dance Zim, it’s alright.”

“If you’re sure...”

“You’re here, I’ll be fine.”

The steps were so familiar, Dib could’ve done them in his sleep. Sure it ached more now, but the smile on Zim’s face right now, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. The pair swayed in sync, a four step waltz, slow circles through the fragrant roses. Dib spun Zim, then brought him close, his husband doing the same in time to the melody. Amber eyes locked only on amethyst, the only person, no, the only thing in the whole world that mattered to him in this moment. 

How truly blessed Dib was, to have Zim. To have his fire, his loyalty, his whole being. All of Zim. And Zim loved him in return. How could he ask for anything more?

One of the many fireflies dancing alongside the duo landed on Zim’s nose, causing him to go slightly cross eyed. It startled both of them, causing Dib to trip, pulling Zim down with him. The joke came so naturally, Dib couldn’t help himself. He looked to his spouse, still pushing himself up from the ground.

“Guess I’ll never stop falling for you, huh?”

Zim stopped, and giggled. The small chortles devolving into full laughs, causing Dib to laugh in turn. 

“Oh Dib,” Zim wheezed out, “never, never change.”

Their shared laughter filled the air, free and clear, a love that could not be broken by jealous siblings, nor feigned death, curses, or any twist fate threw their way. They would now, and forever more keep that promise that they’d made to the other.

Forever bound.

  
  


_ ~~The End~~ _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* Well. Here it is. It's... it's done. It's complete. The boys are married, at last. Ending where it began, the garden where they first fell in love. I can't believe that after all this time that... I made it. I know there's still the bonus chapter but still. Here it is. If you'll allow me to go on for a bit, I'll eulogize arc one. 
> 
> Also the phenomenal art was made by Pinkie, you can find her stuff [https://pinkiepig.tumblr.com/post/629601792725024768/the-happy-ending-that-we-all-want-i-was](here)
> 
> This was my first major undertaking with this fandom, and I don't think I could have asked for this to go any better. The response from all of you has been absolutely more than I could imagine, you all made so much art, fics, songs, and encouraged me so much. I wasn't expecting... any of this. Your comments, your reactions, they dragged my ass through college this last semester, it's been tough for sure. But it always felt like I had this when it all got to be too much. These boys have been the focus of my mind for so long and for them to get their happy ending, it's bittersweet for me. As I've said before I have more plans, but the story of Fading Reflections has concluded. I sincerely hope that you all stick around, as I am absolutely thrilled to get to Forged Identities. 
> 
> Zib better fucking pick a god and pray. 
> 
> I have to give my thanks, in the spirit of the season, as so many people made this project possible. First and foremost, thanks go out to the Zib squad for being my team, always there with art and encouragement. With ideas when I'm in a jam. Shandzii, Chowy, Lilly, thank you so much. Thanks go to Mika, lululablette on Tumblr, for breathing life into the Tallest, and for posting the first ever official art of the au. Mooping 10, you all gave me so much feedback, and you never failed to believe in me, y'all are my online family and I'm eternally grateful. To everyone on the different discord servers really. You helped keep me going, even in my darkest moments. To those working on the MAP, your talents are going to blow me away I know it. I can't wait.
> 
> And to all of you who read, thank you. I started writing just last year, and you all have driven me to keep improving, keep trying new things. Knowing that someone out there loves what I make, and wants more, it's something I never thought that I'd have. And I am forever blown away by your responses. Bless you all. <3
> 
> Sincerely, with all the gratitude in the world,  
> ~MelodyoftheVoid~
> 
> Edit: Arc 2 is now on going! I am really excited, so please check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048246)!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh at last we have arrived, how long I have waited. Updates are going to be... a bit spaced out due to school shit, but trust me, I've got a road map. Buckle up dear readers, it's going to be a ride.


End file.
